


Not Fit For Travel

by seths_dream



Series: Kinktober 2020 [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fucking Machines, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Sex Toys, Teasing, bottom akira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27036586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seths_dream/pseuds/seths_dream
Summary: Akira immediately turned the same vibrant red as the dildo. He could hear the blood rushing through his ears. “This is. Akechi, you got afuck machine? How?When?”“Does it matter?” Akechi said silkily. He strode over to the machine and bent to stroke it with a gloved hand. “I think the question you’re looking for is,‘oh, Akechi, will you fuck me with it?’”Day 16: Fucking machine |Feederism | Intercrural sex
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Series: Kinktober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968652
Comments: 6
Kudos: 182





	Not Fit For Travel

They had only gone to Akechi's apartment together a scant handful of times, even though Akechi had an actual bed. Akechi seemed to prefer LeBlanc, and Akira didn't blame him; his apartment felt empty and a little musty, vastly different from the warmth and hominess of Akira's attic, cramped and ramshackle as it was.

"Why are we going to your place?" Akira asked when they crossed paths at the train station in the morning, hiding a yawn behind his hand. He wasn't against the idea, but he was curious.

"Mm. I'd like to show you something that would be a bit ungainly to bring on public transportation."

That got Akira's attention. His eyebrows shot up past his bangs. "Oh yeah?"

Akechi smiled slyly. "Yeah. You'll have to come see for yourself later." He swayed towards Akira as though to give a kiss, and then remembered they were in public and stepped back. "I'll see you tonight," he said with a wave, and was lost in the crowd a moment later.

Akira had a hard time concentrating in school all day, his mind flooded with everything his imagination could come up with. It was definitely a sex thing, right? Probably. What would be too large for Akechi to bring on the train that couldn't be tucked away in his briefcase or a backpack? He couldn't focus on anything else, mindlessly filling in his notes and assignments. Ann even had to poke him with her pen when lunch started. "What's with you today?"

"Just preoccupied," he mumbled as he scooped rice into his mouth with his chopsticks and chewed absently.

"Got a lot on your mind, huh?" Ann said sympathetically. Akira nodded--it was true, though not in the way she was probably thinking. She was assuming Shadows and budgeting for weapons and juggling school with friends and work and the Metaverse... While it was something much more base.

As if sex with Akechi could ever be so base.

The day crawled, and Akira finally leapt from his seat when the teacher dismissed them.

"Want to hang out this afternoon?" Ann asked, grabbing her bag. "There's a new bakery that opened up in the Underground, I was thinking of stopping by later."

"Sorry, I've got plans."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, with... With Akechi."

Ann's eyes sparkled knowingly. "Ohhh, with Akechi. Well, have fun, you two."

Akira squinted at her. "I don't know what you're thinking, but we..."

"No, no," Ann said with a laugh, waving her hand. "I'm sure it's nothing like that." She winked and Akira fiddled with his bangs nervously. "I'll catch you tomorrow, mkay? I'll see if Makoto is free, and we'll send you pics from the bakery! You're gonna be totally jealous when you see them."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Akira flashed her a smile. "Have fun."

"You too," Ann said with a devious smile.

Akira shook his head as he left, but he couldn't help but laugh a little under his breath. Not a lot got past Ann. They parted ways at the staircase as she went to find Makoto, and he started on his way to Akechi's apartment.

He was thrumming with so much anticipation, he almost missed the subway stop. He managed to squeeze out of the car just before the doors shut and nearly knocked over several people on his way. Then he couldn't remember the apartment number; to be fair, he'd really only been here a couple times and all the doors looked the same. He hovered for a moment between two doors (was it 312 or 314? He really dreaded the risk of knocking on the wrong door), and then his phone buzzed with a text from Akechi.

_ Akechi _ : Where are you?  
_ Akechi _ : You didn't get cold feet, did you?  
_ Akira _ : not a chance.  
_ Akira _ : uh I'm right outside.. my hands are just full   
_ Akira:  _ Could you get the door?

Akira quickly fumbled his jacket off so he was holding something to go along with his flimsy story, just in time for Akechi to open the door of apartment #310 with a quirked eyebrow. Akira scurried over and tried to look like he'd simply been pacing down the hall. 

"Ah yes, I see, hands full holding a coat and a phone. Certainly no way you could knock on a door."

Akira’s cheeks felt hot. "Let's just go inside, okay?"

Akechi’s home was a small one-room apartment, but it was well-furnished and nicely decorated. The futon was already set out and took most of the extra floor space. Something sat at the foot of the bed, a sleek boxy contraption with a thick metal rod that looked like it could piston, certainly too bulky to travel with. It took Akira a moment to register what he was looking at, but then his eyes swept to the side and saw what Akechi was waiting for him to notice: suctioned sturdily onto the end of the metal arm was a bright red, thick, impressively sized bulbous dildo.

Akira immediately turned the same vibrant red as the dildo. He could  _ hear  _ the blood rushing through his ears and prayed he wasn’t about to have a medical emergency. “This is. Akechi, you got… a  _ fuck machine _ ? How?  _ When _ ?”

“Does it matter?” Akechi said silkily. He strode over to the machine and bent to stroke it with a gloved hand. “I think the question you’re looking for is,  _ ‘oh, Akechi, will you fuck me with it? _ ’”

And just like that, the blood flooding Akira’s face changed course and headed downwards. Akechi’s eyes flicked to his tenting crotch and he smirked. “That easy, was it?”

“You calling me easy?” Akira joked and toyed with his hair, trying to regain his composure. 

Akechi looked at him steadily, and his smirk widened as he crowded into Akira’s space and plucked at the hem of Akira’s shirt. “I am. Luckily for you, I’m easy as well. Now get your clothes off and get on my bed.” He smelled clean and floral and the ends of his hair were a little damp, like he’d showered before Akira came over. Akira tried to inhale his scent without looking obvious about it.

The words didn’t leave much room for argument; not that Akira was looking for an argument right now, anyway. He stripped off his clothes without ceremony and lay back on the futon, shivering a little in the cool air. He heard the rustling of fabric, and then the pile of bedding dipped as a naked Akechi joined him.

“See, that  _ was  _ easy, wasn’t it?” Akechi gripped Akira’s jaw and turned his head so they were looking at each other. He still had his gloves on, and Akira shivered again at the texture caressing his skin, both cool and warm to the touch. Akechi caught the movement and stroked Akira’s cheek with a single leather-clad finger. “Don’t worry, you’ll warm up soon.” He was using his sex voice, a sultry purr that wrapped Akira around his finger—Akechi had noticed that only the second or third time they’d slept together, and he abused that knowledge to his advantage.

Akira opened his mouth to speak, but Akechi filled it with his tongue before he could get as much as a syllable out. Akira didn’t mind—he submitted to the kiss easily and eagerly as Akechi licked out his mouth just right.

Akechi shifted over to grab the lube he kept under the futon, and removed one of his gloves before squirting a dollop onto his fingers. Akira privately felt a little disappointed; he kind of really wanted Akechi to finger him with the gloves on one day. He wasn’t sure what reaction Akechi would give to that confession, so he kept it private for now.

“Spread your legs,” Akechi murmured, then slid a finger in with no preamble. He added a second finger a bare moment later. The lube was cold and Akira squirmed at the quick, perfunctory stretching Akechi was giving him. “Relax,” Akechi chided when he prodded a third finger and Akira’s hole squeezed tight. “The dildo is sizable. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, now.”

“Liar,” Akira hissed with a pleased shudder as his hole relaxed enough for Akechi’s third finger to worm in and join the other two. Akechi laughed.

“Well, not in  _ that  _ way, anyway. I have far more enjoyable ways of hurting you.”

Then Akechi’s fingers withdrew so he could set up the machine. Akira shifted his hips on the comforter, chewed his lip and rubbed idly at his left nipple to distract himself from how cold and wet and exposed his ass felt.

Then the large head of the dildo was pressing against Akira’s hole, and he snapped his eyes upwards to meet Akechi’s. “Relax,” he purred again, stroking Akira’s leg with his still-gloved hand. “I’m going to start it on the lowest setting.” He fiddled with a dial and the machine made a low whirring noise. Akira felt a burst of trepidation and excitement as he felt the dildo start to slowly, inexorably breach his hole—and then it popped inside and slowly inched in, then out, powered by a steady motor. If it wasn’t a damn  _ giant red dildo attached to a fucking machine,  _ Akira would classify the motion as somehow gentle.

He blew out a breath and managed to actually relax. This wasn’t bad at all; it certainly was not starting out as intense as he’d thought it would. It was weirdly relaxing.

“It’s good?”

“It’s okay,” Akira shrugged. It wasn’t bad, but wasn’t particularly  _ anything  _ so far. Yeah, there was something moving in his ass, but not much was going on back there. Akechi turned the dial just slightly, and the sound of the machine revved up just before the arm started moving a little deeper, just a  _ tad  _ faster, still rocking smooth and almost soothing. It was just enough to give Akira an itch now and not  _ nearly  _ enough to scratch it. “Can you… a little more?”

Akechi smiled up at him, a little devilish, and nipped the side of Akira’s knee. “At your service,” he said, prodding at something on the machine that made the dildo piston deeper than before. 

Akira hadn’t been expecting that—he’d grown accustomed to the depth already and had assumed that was what he’d be getting, but now he felt  _ full,  _ stretched wide around the dildo. He was starting to get really into it, hitching his hips up just a little with each motion. The slow rocking motions were beginning to drive him crazy. 

“Now,” Akechi said. Then, inexplicably, he stood and stretched lazily before wandering a few feet over to the kitchen to sit bare-assed on a wooden chair. “I have quite a bit of work to do. I’m sure you can keep yourself entertained.”

Akira gaped at him when Akechi opened a few books and a notepad spread out over his kitchen table, and he… he really did seem to be working. That absolutely sadistic  _ fucker.  _ Akira knew he could get his attention again. 

He moaned and swore loudly with each steady thrust of the machine, rocking back into the thrusts as seductively as he could manage. Akechi wasn’t looking, anyway. “Akechi,” he whined. “Turn it higher, Akechi. I need it harder.”

Akechi turned a page and scribbled something lengthy in his notepad. “What was that, Akira?” he said airily after a delay. He was playing with Akira, the bastard. “I’m sorry; I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“You  _ fucker, _ ” Akira said instead of anything more persuasive. He shuffled his body a little to try and get a better angle, to get  _ something  _ more than this insufferable tease, and moaned when it hit the exact right spot.

“Seems like you’re doing just fine on your own,” Akechi noted. He sounded unfairly casual, and he still wasn’t  _ looking.  _

“I’m—” Akira gritted his teeth against another moan. He wouldn’t give Akechi the pleasure anymore. “I’d like a little help here.  _ Please _ .”

At that, Akechi put the pen down and sat back. He regarded Akira with steely eyes. “I must admit, you make a tempting sight. Laid back naked on my bed with a cock pumping into you… I usually see this from a  _ very  _ different angle. It’s enticing to be able to watch you get fucked without being distracted by how hot and tight you feel inside.”

Akechi’s words made his head spin. He put his feet flat on the futon and tried to arch up high into the next thrust, needing it harder against his prostate, but the dildo popped out and he groaned in frustration. The machine continued to piston. The dildo bumped into his leg repeatedly in a parody of sex.

“Fine, fine,” Akechi almost laughed. “We can’t have  _ that,  _ after all.” Then he was kneeling by Akira’s side again and rearranging the machine, spreading Akira’s ass open with one hand and positioning the dildo with the other so it slid home on the next thrust. Akira exhaled slowly and rested his arm over his forehead. “There we go,” Akechi echoed Akira’s thoughts.

Akira wriggled his toes impatiently and shot Akechi a look. Akechi seemed too busy admiring the way the dildo disappeared inside his ass, so he tugged the ends of Akechi’s hair meanly. He was willing to suffer the glare that move elicited if it meant he could have Akechi’s damn attention. “Come on, I thought you wanted to  _ fuck  _ me. Turn it up, fuck, please, it’s not enough.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Akechi’s tone was mocking, and he laughed again at Akira’s murderous glare. “You’re just so pretty to watch… the bright red is quite striking against your pale skin, and your black hair. You can’t blame me for getting distracted.” Still, he reached over to turn the machine up a notch, and then a few more for good measure.

_ Now  _ Akira was getting a good proper fucking. His next breath came shaky and he fidgeted more on the bed before Akechi pinned his hip down with his gloved hand. It felt like a brand on his skin. “Stay still. We don’t want this slipping out of you again.”

Akira nodded wordlessly. Akechi turned up the depth of the machine again, and the stretch of the silicone cock somehow reached deeper than before, punching a loud moan from Akira’s core. It stretched his walls obscenely wide with its girth, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in; Akira imagined what it looked like from the other end, and decided he couldn’t entirely blame Akechi after all. 

Akira looked back up to see Akechi stroking his own cock a little now. It was a relief to see Akechi was actually getting worked up by this. Akira had  _ thought  _ he was, but with Akechi… it could be hard to tell what was going on in his mind. 

Akechi smiled slow and dirty at him. “This good enough for you now?” Akechi was taunting Akira with that smile.

Akira reluctantly dragged his eyes away from Akechi’s pink cock. He bit his lip and shook his head. “I need it faster.” It was an odd sensation. He was used to the brutal, hedonistic fuckings he and Akechi usually indulged in. This slow ramp up, a piece of dual density silicon attached to a plastic and metal machine, fully artificial and fully out of his control… he didn’t know when it had switched over, but it had moved him from barely aroused to feeling like he was burning up from the inside out. 

“Why didn’t you say so?” Akechi teased. Akira cursed him colorfully, but then the dial was clicking further and Akira’s scathing remarks turned breathy and broken. “You were saying, Akira?”

Akira could only shake his head and stare blearily at the ceiling. The new frantic pace was driving him closer now,  _ really  _ closer, not just a tease anymore. He could only lie back and take the repetitive motions, no variation to speed or depth or angle; just the inexorable tide creeping over his body, washing over him and ebbing back, inescapable as it took, and took, and took, plunging into Akira’s ass fast and deep and unchanging, over and over.

And all the while, Akechi watched. Akira’s eyes had clenched shut at some point, but he could still  _ feel  _ his eyes on him, and he could hear Akechi’s hand moving over himself, could hear his low sighs and hitched breaths. Akira let himself get fucked, and Akechi  _ watched.  _

He clenched down on smooth silicon and tossed his head, ran his throat ragged with the groans tumbling out of him. He tried to buck his hips wildly, but Akechi’s hand slammed back down on his hip and stayed. It kept him in place while he whimpered and trembled, his body moving incrementally with the push and pull of the fucking machine. He wasn’t in control of his own movements anymore, and just that thought had him pulsing harder and biting his lip. Even while he fought to keep his body from twisting into, away from,  _ into  _ the motions, he knew he wouldn’t even have to put a hand on his cock to come tonight. He kept his arms limp at his sides. Akechi loved it when he could make Akira come on nothing but his cock. He lorded it over Akira, even. Akira didn’t mind at all, as long as Akechi promised to keep doing that.

Akira managed to take some control back over his body and crack his eyes open so he could look over at Akechi, kneeling by Akira’s side. He was flushed all the way down his chest, jaw clenched, eyes barely open and fixed on the cock pistoning in and out of Akira’s sore hole. Akira’s mouth watered at the sight of Akechi’s cock disappearing and reappearing with every rapid jerk of his hand, his other hand fondling at his balls.

The fucking machine felt good, more than good,  _ great  _ even at this point—but Akechi’s cock was right there, inches away from Akira’s hip where Akechi was rubbing and stroking it, black leather dramatically contrasting against his flushed erection. Akira knew what Akechi’s cock could do to him—what it  _ had  _ done to him just a couple nights ago, the way he’d screamed while riding it, the way they’d almost broken his bed a few nights before  _ that;  _ the way it filled every bit of Akira so perfectly, his hand, his mouth, his ass—yeah, this felt good, but Akechi’s cock would feel better. He whimpered and felt his mouth water pitifully just looking at it.

Akechi’s eyes met Akira’s, and his lips quirked into a smile. “You like my toy, Akira-kun?” He sounded like he was struggling to keep his voice even, but he was panting and arching his back into his own touch too obviously to keep up the pretense of control. Akira felt a spike of irrational jealousy towards Akechi’s hands. 

“I like your dick better.” Akira tried to smile over at Akechi through the jolting movements shaking through his body, but he didn’t think he quite managed it. The next few thrusts had him closing his eyes with a strangled noise, but he forced them back open to catch Akechi’s again.

Akechi snorted indelicately. “Nice try, but you’re not getting my cock tonight. You’re going to come on this lovely cock I got just for you.”

“But, Akechi, I...nnh…” Akira forgot what his argument was going to be when Akechi, fucking bastard that he was, grabbed at Akira’s inner thigh and pushed it back further before fiddling with the machine again. And then Akira couldn’t think at all, he couldn’t even  _ forget  _ to think, because everything was white-hot numbing pleasure and every bit of his body seemed to exist for nothing but this, nothing but the pounding he was getting, nothing but the noises pouring from his mouth as he came. 

He came out of it slowly, groggily. Consciousness filtered into him bit by bit. His ass felt empty and loose, so clearly the machine had been switched off and moved away. He jerked a little when something cold touched his lip, and he opened his eyes to find Akechi pressing a glass of water against him.

“Awake, Sleeping Beauty?”

“Mmmn,” was Akira’s intelligent response. He grasped the cup and drank deeply. He drained every drop of water and then fell onto the pillow again to catch his breath. He reached out blindly and grabbed whatever part of Akechi was closest—his leg, it felt like. “Did you come?”

“About the same time you did.” Akechi shuffled forward so he was lying against Akira’s body. “You were  _ quite  _ a sight to behold, losing yourself on my bed without a single hand on you.”

Akira squirmed. “Yeah, well, it was  _ quite  _ an experience.”

Akechi hummed in Akira’s ear. “Maybe we can try it the other way next time,” and  _ oh,  _ that was going to be featuring heavily in Akira’s fantasies. “But for now, let’s get cleaned up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Why yes I HAVE used one of these before.


End file.
